Pen on the Paper
by fanficReider
Summary: This oneshot takes place back when Spencer was 19. He's on his way to see his mother, and has a flashback from his childhood.


Pen on the Paper

"_Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers," Lord Tennyson Alfred_

* * *

The train speed along in the lonely grasslands of the Midwest. In one of the end cars sat a nineteen year old prodigy, Dr. Spencer Reid. He had spoken at a college in Iowa the day before, and was now on his way to Las Vegas by himself; the professor that went with him to the conference to a flight back to California. Spencer wasn't in a rush to get to Nevada, so he had picked up a train ticket that morning. His head was craned down towards the parchment paper that was set on his lap. The black ballpoint pen held tightly in his hand nearly touched the surface of the paper. Writer's block lingered in his mind, not allowing his thoughts to fully bloom, to be written down.

Spencer closed his eyes in thought. _"Come on,"_ he urged inwardly, _"think."_ He wondered to himself if his mother ever had problems with writing lesson plans for her 15th century literature classes. He remembered back to when he was just ten years old. Diana Reid wasn't institutionalized at the time, so she was at her and Spencer's home when she wasn't teaching at the nearby college. It seemed like such a long time ago.

* * *

_Spencer sat at the cluttered kitchen table, which was used more for writing and reading than actually eating. He sat in one of the stern wooden chairs, and was using a pillow to boost himself up. Surprisingly, Spencer was short when he was younger; it wasn't until he was about thirteen or so before he shot up like a bean sprout._

"_Hey Mom?" he had called out to his mother, who happened to be in another room at the time._

"_Yes Spencer?" she responded, soon coming into the cramped kitchen. She at first had difficulty seeing her son over the mess of papers and textbooks on the table, but once she approached close enough, she was able to see her only child. He pressed his large glasses further up on the bridge of his nose as he looked up._

"_Have you ever had problems writing essays or reports?" he asked inquisitively. Diana briefly smiled before seating herself in the chair next to her young son. His chin-length hair framed his thin and pale face, and several pieces hung in front of his brown eyes._

"_Back when I was a teenager, when I was in high school, I suppose I did get writer's block every once in a while. Now it's much of a problem for me," she answered; her eyes and mind going somewhere else. Spencer looked over at the pale woman that he knew as his mom, and his only friend. Being a ten year old that goes to high school usually doesn't shout out friend material to others, rather, it yells out "Hey, I'm fresh bait for bullies! Have at me!"_

"_Is there anything to get rid of it, anything that you do? This essay's due tomorrow morning, and at this rate I'll never get it done," Spencer subtly shook his head. Diana sighed in thought, and then searched the mess of paper. She instantly found what she was looking for; two blank, lined pieces of paper, and a pencil. She handed one of the sheets to her son while keeping the other for herself._

"_Believe it or not, writing works wonders," she started with a smile. She touched the tip of the pencil onto her sheet of paper. Spencer's face contorted to one of confusion._

"_I don't get it. That's my problem, though; I don't know what to write," he replied. Diana chuckled before she placed a hand on Spencer's bony shoulder._

"_It's alright. You will get it. What's the first thing that comes to your mind?" _

"_Um, this essay," Spencer answered._

"_Come on, Spencer! Something more imaginative than that!" Diana exclaimed._

"_An old, creaky house," Spencer said after a moment or so. _

"_Better! Now, take your pencil and write about it; what does it look like? Does anyone live there? Who lived there before? Anything you can possibly think of about that old, creaky house. Just keep writing until you know the block in that gifted brain of yours is gone." Spencer nodded as he began writing on the blank paper that his mother gave him. He just let out whatever came to mind flow onto his page, his tiny scrawl soon covered it entirely. Diana also wrote; her loopy, neat handwriting took up both sides of her paper. She was about to grab another sheet, but then realized Spencer was lost in his own head, continuing work once again on his report for school. She smiled warmly and closed her tired eyes for a second. _

_She had wished William hadn't left, and that he could be here to experience moments like this. She understood why he had left, but that didn't mean she liked any better. She exhaled through her nose, and then stood up; the sound of her chair scraping against the tiled floor snapped Spencer out of his focused state._

"_I'll be going to be now, Spencer. Don't stay up too much later, alright?" Diana bent down and pressed her lips against Spencer's cold forehead. Spencer smiled and then nodded his head._

"_I promise I'll go to bed soon. I should be done within ten minutes or so," he confirmed. "Goodnight, Mom. I love you."_

"_I love you too, Spencer," Diana replied before she left the room, leaving Spencer to himself. He soon craned his head closer to his report once again, and pushed his glasses up his nose. He wrote for several more minutes before finally finishing, breathing a sigh of relief. With the last of his homework done, he crept into his bedroom and snuck into his bed. He had shut his eyes and soon fell fast asleep._

* * *

Spencer awoke, his head resting against the clear window next to him. He silently cursed himself for falling asleep as he rubbed his eyes. He soon looked back down at the blank parchment paper on his lap. With the ordinary pen in his hand, he started to write, now finding the right words; the ones he wished he'd found earlier. He tried his best to write as neatly and as cautiously as he could. His scrawl was centered in the center of the paper, and he had signed his name near the bottom, though he had signed it simply "Spencer" instead of his full name, "Dr. Spencer Reid." He then quickly added a post script note at the bottom edge of the paper.

He slightly grinned as he read over his work, knowing that no matter how horrible the poem he had just composed was, his mother would appreciate it either way; it was the thought that counted. Spencer then proceeded to tuck the poem away into his grey backpack. He made a mental reminder to himself that the instant he got back to his apartment in California that he'd get a new bag; his current backpack was overly worn, mainly from all the abuse it had endured over the six years he owned it.

Spencer looked out his window the rest of the way, occasionally dozing off, and catching up on some much needed sleep. The entire way though, he wished that his mother wouldn't remember. He hoped she didn't remember that it had been a year to the day that her own son had her committed to the Bennington Sanitarium.

* * *

_Life is far from perfect. In fact, life is made of imperfections. The same principles apply to all of us; no one is perfect, and we all make mistakes. Hopefully though, we can take our mistakes that we've made in the past and learn from them. We can take our experiences and use them to better ourselves, and bring us closer to perfection. This wisdom is passed down to someone, whether it's to family or to a stranger on the street. Someday, maybe, from all the wisdom, we will have made a perfect person._

_Spencer_

_I'm sorry for all the mistakes I've made in the past, Mom. Hopefully though, everyone can learn something from my decisions. Know that no matter what, I'll always love you, and know that I'm proud to be your son._

* * *

**Another one-shot I concurred in my psychopathic mind. I thought it'd be kind of cute for Reid to have a bit of a flashback from his childhood days :) I hope everyone enjoyed reading, and I apologize for this story's short length; hopefully you liked it anyway. I also beg for forgiveness for that horrid poetry I made ^^' I can see now why I did badly in my poetry unit in English class last year. Quick question: if you had to ship a couple in Criminal Minds, which two agents would you pair together? Let me know! It might determine what story I might do next! Yah never know :)**

**Thanks guys! Have an awesome day! Bye :)**


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